Eighty?
He’ll ponder deep blue, sailfish, and far fewer fried foods in his vegetarian diet.
And so a story ends again on a satisfied note, with a man dreaming of who his children might grow up to be. He sees Moeava at the helm, following bubbles and birds in a frenzy over sailfish working a bait ball from below. Awaiting capture in the foray are several compositions of alertness and curiosity. A bill flashes in the electric moment, sail arched, lateral line shimmering, body aglow in a rainbow of emotion to match the electrons and sunbeams going eye-to-eye with the lens.
He’ll rise on a discordant note and take two aspirin with bubbly soda. He’ll watch and wait and consider a more prudent path.
END